


In the light of day

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Series: Mating Games Challenge (+Extras) [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Schmoop, Self Confidence Issues, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So you're <i>not</i> trying to distract me from asking you why you won't let me see you naked?" Stiles opens his mouth to point out how they've had completely naked sex many times now so of course Derek's seen him naked. But Derek beats him to the punch, rolling his eyes like he's read Stiles' mental reply. "In proper light."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the light of day

**Author's Note:**

> De-anoning for the Light vs Dark challenge. I wrote such stupid schmoop.

"No, don't!" Stiles' muffled cry is immediately followed by a blind grab to stop Derek's hand before it succeeds in turning lamp on.

 

He winds up kissing Derek's nose, flailing wildly while toppling off the large bed and onto the hard floor. Stiles lies face down for a minute, contemplating his graceless nature and throbbing nose while Derek turns the light on. Then Stiles takes a moment to contemplate his defeat.  _'Should have unplugged the lamp before we started.'_ Stiles decides. 

 

So much for that attempt.

 

"You alright?" Derek asks. There's mild concern in his voice. Mingling with a hefty dose of judgement and amusement. It's all very rude.

 

Stiles rolls over on his back, grunting in irritation when he somehow winds up with a shoe under him. Stupid boots. As he tries to grab the offending item, Derek watches from his perch and frowns. The werewolf is holding himself up on the bed, palms down flat. His eyebrows meanwhile, are raised in a way that  _scream_ 'unimpressed'. Stiles is unimpressed by their unimpressedness. It's a word, shut up.

 

"What the hell was that?" The werewolf asks, enunciating each other with great care. His boyfriend is such a nerd. It shouldn't be so hot but it is. 

 

"What was what?" Stiles asks, because he's good at ignoring things even when they're dancing naked under his nose. Because you see, there's this issue he's been avoiding ever since he and Derek started having sex. It's been almost 3 months now and there's no way he's going to face it. If Stiles were given an option, he'd like to talk about it _never_. 

 

But it seems Derek has noticed the issue and wants to talk about it. 

 

Maybe he should get his name changed to Denial. Denial Stilinski. It has a nice ring to it.

 

 _'Or I could make a run for it. I just gotta put my shirt on, find my shoes and run to the door without a curious werewolf finding me.'_ Stiles quickly decides its a lost cause. Looks like his ego is in for a bruising today.

 

Derek rolls his eyes, doing his best impression of an angry male model reclining on a bed. What product he's selling, Stiles doesn't know. He just knows Derek looks good when he’s all rumpled hair, low slung jeans, pettable torso and artfully reclined. He could sell anything with that handsome face, even cat litter. Stiles is certain the cat litter would fly off the shelves. 

 

"You know what." Derek lowers himself on his elbows, holding both hands out for Stiles to take. Stiles wriggles closer before accepting, hefting himself up to his knees before stealing a kiss. If you can't distract them through words, there's kissing and other sexy approaches. Like sliding his hands slowly up Derek's arms because he knows it makes Derek shiver. Or moving them up into Derek's seriously ruffled hair and tugging gently to make his mouth fall open.

 

Derek's quiet hum makes Stiles internally crow with triumph. He’s got this! But his delight dies a swift death because Derek pulls away almost immediately.

 

"Don't try to distract me." Derek scolds with a frown. It really falls flat thanks to the half-dazed look in his eyes and pink lips. 

 

"I'm not!" Stiles replies out of sheer instinct.

 

His defensive tone prompts a snort from Derek. "So you're  _not_  trying to distract me from asking you why you won't let me see you naked?" Stiles opens his mouth to point out how they've had completely naked sex many times now so _of course_ Derek's seen him naked. But Derek beats him to the punch, rolling his eyes like he's read Stiles' mental reply. "In proper light."

 

Ugh. Groan. Moan. Agony.

 

The thing he's been trying to avoid for a week is out. It's flying around his head like an attention seeking, clingy brownie faery. Complete with the annoying tendency to bite and very sharp teeth. Damn Derek for taking the 'We need to work on our communication skills if we're going to make it as a couple!' rule so seriously.

 

And damn himself for being so transparent.

 

"Can I plead the fifth on that?" He hedges, squirming under Derek's unamused look.

 

Stiles fidgets harder when Derek's eyes slip lower, and grow distant. There's a nervous joke waiting on the tip of his tongue. It's poised and ready. That he ought to turn the light off before Derek's blinded by the light reflecting off his pale skin. And it's hard to keep it bay when Derek's eyes linger over his naked chest. Stiles wonders what Derek finds so interesting about his body.

 

Stiles stares at Derek's ear and tries very hard not to feel self-conscious.

 

He fails spectacularly.

 

How can he not though? Just look at his boyfriend! Derek's got a torso you could use as a washboard, his arms should be a national treasure, and then there’s his eyes. Just...

 

Stiles feels his body esteem issues are justified, that's all he's saying.

 

Heaving a long sigh, Stiles mumbles, "Are you done yet?"

 

Without waiting for an answer, Stiles extricates himself from Derek's slack grip and leans towards the light source. The sooner he turns it off the better he'll feel. But Derek grabs his hands again.

 

Stiles would flail were his hands not trapped under Derek's firm grip. "No." Derek scowls. "I'm not. I want to look at you."

 

"Why? Do you wanna be blinded?" Stiles snarks.

 

Derek's fingers tighten before relaxing, just like his expression "I want to look at my boyfriend, that's all."

 

A peculiar feeling of giddy happiness and nervousness bubbles up at Derek's soft tone. And then there's the way he's _looking_ at Stiles. It makes Stiles blush and squirm (and giggle in a very manly fashion). Derek Hale, closet romantic and his boyfriend, ladies and gents. "There's nothing to look at." He mumbles shyly, shuffling the few inches forward so that he can hide his face against Derek's shoulder.

 

"There's plenty to look at." Derek retorts immediately, using his strength to drag Stiles back up in bed. Stiles goes in willingly, happy to lie under Derek's warm, firm body and enjoy the kisses being pressed into his skin. He sighs and arches into the kisses Derek is peppering down his neck and chest until Stiles feels like jelly.

 

Stiles' hands grab at Derek, clutching the werewolf's muscled shoulders nervously as the kisses go lower and lower until the werewolf is nuzzling his crotch.  He holds his breath, riding the fine line between nervous and excitement, and waits for Derek to make his move. 

  
But the werewolf stays there. Crouching over Stiles' hips, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on the skin above his underwear and jeans before finally, _finally_ looking up. "Should I go on?" Derek asks quietly, hands heavy against Stiles' thighs. They feel so _hot_. All Stiles wants is to feel them against his naked skin, to hitch his legs up or spread him wide open.  

 

Also hot and heavy is the weight of Derek's stare. Earnest green eyes peer at him. Watch him to consider the question and what it entails. Derek blinks and breathes in a steady rhythm and waits for Stiles to decide. Those pretty eyes turn dark with desire when Stiles's hands slide down to his jeans and work the button open. He nods hesitantly, huffing in exasperation when the zipper gets stuck. Fucking figures.

 

His stomach muscles jump when Derek's hands come up to join the party, tugging on the zipper a few times (with a little extra human strength) and generally helping in undressing Stiles. Stiles feels a hot blush flooding his face as soon as Derek begins to tug his underwear down with his jeans. He forces his hands to stay by his side, curling them into the sheets instead of using them to cover himself.

 

His blush deepens when Derek looks at his naked body. His eyes _drag_ over the length of Stiles' body. Derek takes his sweet time, staring so intently and hard Stiles fidgets and breaks first. "Well? What's the verdict?" He asks Derek.

 

Derek blinks, like he's been shaken out of a deep sleep. The heat in his eyes only grows when he meets Stiles' shy gaze and murmurs, "Perfect."

 

And Stiles' feels like he's died and gone to cheesy romance heaven.


End file.
